Have you ever felt like strength became your prison?
Like the more resilient you became, the less anyone noticed your unraveling?
I used to pride myself on my ability to carry it all—grit in my teeth, to-do lists tattooed on my soul.
I wore exhaustion like a badge and called it devotion.
But one morning, standing in the kitchen with my hands trembling around a coffee cup, I realized something heartbreaking:
Resilience had become my survival mask.
I didn’t recognize myself underneath it.
When “Purpose” Becomes a Polished Cage
We’re often told to “find purpose” in everything—especially in work.
But sometimes, that quest becomes yet another hustle. Not a path to healing, but a rebranding of pain.
What if I told you not everything that drains you is a spiritual assignment?
That chasing “meaning” in a broken system can become its own form of self-abandonment?
Current culture feeds us this polished narrative: Turn your burnout into bravery.
Package your trauma into leadership. Rewrite your exhaustion as enlightenment.
But you are not required to transcend every hardship.
You’re allowed to walk away from what depletes you.
And call it sacred.
The Invisible Cost of Always Bouncing Back
According to recent workplace trend reports, the phrase “quiet quitting” was just the beginning.
A 2024 Deloitte study found 64% of women in midlife said their job expectations clashed with their personal values—but they stayed silent for fear of appearing ungrateful.
That silence?
It’s not resilience.
It’s survival mode.
This is where so many women are trapped:
Told they should be grateful to have a seat at the table—even if the chair is broken, the lighting harsh, and the air thick with performance.
What’s the reward for staying strong?
Often, more weight.
What’s the cost of speaking up?
Often, being labeled the problem.
Your Soul Doesn’t Want a Gold Star
At some point, I stopped asking how to push through.
I started asking, What does my soul want to opt out of?
Because “finding purpose” isn’t always about endurance.
Sometimes it’s about discernment.
It’s about recognizing that just because you can carry it all, doesn’t mean you should.
Spiritual maturity isn’t proved by how much you endure.
It’s shown in how clearly you hear your own inner “no”—and honor it.
What Helped Me (Maybe It’ll Help You)
Here’s what I’ve learned—and I’m still learning:
Your energy is sacred. It’s not for everything. Or everyone.
So instead of chasing a purpose that requires you to betray yourself, try this:
- Name what drains you (without judgment).
- Feel what’s true in your body—does that meeting, that project, that conversation constrict your chest?
- Redefine productivity as anything that protects your peace.
- Pause long enough to notice the wisdom hiding in your fatigue.
Because maybe your burnout isn’t a flaw to fix.
Maybe it’s a spiritual protest.
A sacred stop sign.
You’re Allowed to Change the Story
You don’t have to be the strong one all the time.
You don’t have to rewrite every struggle into a lesson.
You can just say:
This is too much.
And that’s enough of a reason to stop.
Not everything that breaks you is meant to build you.
And sometimes, resilience means resting.
Reclaiming.
Refusing to keep climbing ladders you no longer believe in.
So here’s a new mantra for your mirror:
“I release what depletes. I protect what nourishes.”
Let that be your sacred assignment.
Thank you for reading.
Additional Resource:
Deloitte 2024 Women at Work Survey
